Mori

☆he/they FTM ; 19y - neurodivergent-PWD & aries-enfp ┆ ENG/PT-BR☆

[blueberrymori]

⌞Request: open ⌝

masterlist ⌇ ao3 ⌇ ask box ⌇

Hello, you can call me Mori. I am Brazilian, soo english is not my native language, i ask in advance that any spelling mistakes or inconsistencies in my writing I'm sorry...more less.

[blueberrymori]

Hi, I’m sick right now with dengue fever, which is a disease spread by mosquito bites. This is the second time I’ve had it, and even though I’ve been vaccinated against it, since it’s my second time, it’s much more dangerous it can cause bleeding and mental confusion, in addition to body aches and irritability. Today, March 28, is the first day I’ve picked up my phone since Wednesday. I think I deleted about three things from my blog because they were annoying me; one of them was the post about Spider!reader x Abbot x Robby.

I’ll still write about it when I get better and leave the hospital; I’m really sorry about that. Have a great night, and thanks for your understanding.

[blueberrymori]

I'm finally feeling better, thank you for the support, I'll be back next week with some new things to post. <3

[blueberrymori]

Omg I hope it passes soon!! Take all the time you need to heal!

thank you annon <3

[blueberrymori]

Hi, I’m sick right now with dengue fever, which is a disease spread by mosquito bites. This is the second time I’ve had it, and even though I’ve been vaccinated against it, since it’s my second time, it’s much more dangerous it can cause bleeding and mental confusion, in addition to body aches and irritability. Today, March 28, is the first day I’ve picked up my phone since Wednesday. I think I deleted about three things from my blog because they were annoying me; one of them was the post about Spider!reader x Abbot x Robby.

I’ll still write about it when I get better and leave the hospital; I’m really sorry about that. Have a great night, and thanks for your understanding.

[moriblueberry]

masterlist.

DC

MARVEL

COD

CRIMINAL MINDS

TWD

THE PITT

➤main blog

[blueberrymori]

not the same anon, but are trans men who use she/her not allowed to read your stuff?

i have a hard time understanding why the reader's pronouns affect your writing, if they follow your boundaries as an mlm audience

Hi Anon, since my last post I’ve received several “asks,” and yours was the one that sounded the most polite, so I’ll be answering through this one and trying to clarify everything, because I’m someone who doesn’t like arguments and the like, and this will be the last post on this subject.

First of all, this isn’t about banning queer people (gender-fluid, non-binary, etc.) who use she/her; it’s about not liking it when cis people who use she/herand who, when you visit the blog, you can clearly see are CIS interact with my content.

Second, it’s not about pronouns again; I know that pronouns are different from gender, but there’s a certain segment of the fanfic-reading community that uses “she/her” and chooses to read MLM blogs out of fetish or any reasons. That was one of the reasons I deleted my old blog, because when I got notifications, they were mostly interactions from women’s blogs, it tires me out and kills my motivation to write.

Now, this has nothing to do with your comment, Anon. It’s just me venting; sometimes I feel like giving up this blog because of the mental exhaustion I feel, and sometimes I just think about starting to write for she/her readers to see if I stop getting so bothered when I see a female blog interacting with my stuff, honestly, I don’t know. I’m sorry if any part of this sounded aggressive or ignorant, or like I’m fishing for sympathy, that’s not the intention of this response; it’s about me needing to think about how to move forward.

[blueberrymori]

Summary: Spencer knows he can get whatever he wants as long as he gives you that puppy-dog look, and he’s going to use that to his advantage.

warnings: FTM reader (he/him), just fluff, Spencer getting spoiled, the reader doing whatever Spencer wants because of his puppy-dog eyes.

A/N: I don't use Y/N or variants in my fanfics. This content was created for male readers, not for blogs with “SHE/HER” in their bios don't interact

At first, it wasn’t intentional; Spencer didn’t want to take advantage of your kindness. He started with small things, like asking you to grab his coffee mug, or asking you to read a book he wanted to discuss, or borrowing your sweatshirt to wear.

Spencer realized that if he looked at you with a more innocent expression, he could get anything he wanted from you, and once he realized that, he started using it to his advantage—like mentioning that he’d like to go on a few dates or receive some flowers. He started small, testing the waters.

It wasn’t that you two didn’t go on dates—on the contrary—but when he had time off or was away from work, it was always just the two of you spending time together. But Spencer missed going out to the park or the library, or doing anything else.

So when he came home from a business trip, he was surprised and delighted to find a cozy evening waiting for him at home, with dinner ready and the living room set up for a movie night. Spencer smiled when he saw his arms open, inviting him to lie down in his arms. He quickly took off his shoes and tie and lay down on his lap, resting his head on his chest.

It was a peaceful night; Spencer was happy with the date night he’d planned. Spencer fell asleep in his lap, that night they both slept on the couch, hugging each other. When the sun rose, Spencer woke up to the smell of food and chamomile tea. Spencer sat up on the couch and looked toward the kitchen, seeing his back in the baggy sweatshirt that he always stole whenever he could.

He got up from the couch and walked toward the kitchen, rubbing his eyes. — Good morning, my love— he said, hugging you from behind, his slender arms wrapping around your waist as he kissed the back of your neck. — It smells great. What do we have for breakfast?— he asked, trying to hide the interest welling up inside him.

— There’s chamomile tea and cornmeal cake— he said. his voice still sounded sleepy, but Spencer found that all the more charming. He looked into his eyes—those sweet eyes staring back at him.

— Can I have a kiss?— he asked, looking at your lips with that puppy-dog gaze. When your lips met his, a sigh escaped his lips; his hands tightened around your waist. He loved these little moments when you were together.

Breakfast was a peaceful experience; he looked at you the whole time, his hand barely leaving yours, gazing at you as he held your hand. — Honey— Spencer said, wanting your attention; when your eyes met his, he smiled.

— When I was coming back yesterday, I saw a bouquet of yellow roses. It was really beautiful— he said, just throwing the idea out there, as he looked at you with wide eyes. He knew it would work out; he would be the one to receive the bouquet.

— Where was that bouquet for sale?— His question brought a smile to Spencer’s face, along with a feigned air of innocence.

— Near that restaurant that serves chicken xadrez— he replied promptly. He was already certain that all he had to do was put on that expression, and he’d get what he wanted.

When Spencer was in the BAU office, nearing lunchtime and working on his reports, he received a text message on his phone: a simple — Can you come down?— His heart beat faster, and he quickly stood up from his desk, catching Emily’s eye—he was at the desk across from him and just let out a little laugh.

Spencer went outside the building, took out his phone, and sent a message: — Where are you?— He sent it and heard his voice—— Right behind you, my love.— He turned around to see his holding a bouquet of yellow roses.

— I thought I’d pick you up for lunch.— his sweet smile brought a smile to his face; Reid reached out to take the bouquet from his hand. He looked at the flowers and then at you, biting his lip.

— Sure, that sounds like a great idea— Spencer said, taking your hand and walking beside you to the restaurant you’d planned to go to. His other hand played with the ribbon on the bouquet. Spencer knew he could get anything he wanted from you with that puppy-dog look, and he was certainly going to start exploiting that more.

[blueberrymori]

the fact that you specifically tell blogs w she/her in bio not to interact is crazy especially considering pronouns =/= gender… that’s level 1 woke x

It’s an MLM blog aimed at male readers, so it makes sense for me to target the audience I want to engage with my posts It’s not about pronouns equaling gender; it’s really about the target audience.You just have to look at the tags, they’re aimed at Male!readers and FtM!readers.

Just as blogs that write for female readers get annoyed by blogs with “he/Him” in the bio interacting with their fanfics, I get annoyed by blogs with “she/her” in the bio interacting with the content I create, since it’s content aimed at male readers. Besides, most blogs that write fanfic are for female readers.

So don’t give me a hard time about wanting it this way, have a good day.

[blueberrymori]

Summary: It was a very long 12-hour shift, and when Dennis got home and found you asleep, the problem was that he was feeling needy and horny, but didn't want to wake you up, so to try to get rid of it, he takes a shower and tries to sleep, only to wake up in the middle of the night rubbing against you.

warnings: use of a strap-on, FTM reader (he/him), dom!reader, sub!Whitaker, tender sex, needy Whitaker.

A/N: I don't use Y/N or variants in my fanfics. This content was created for male readers, not for blogs with “SHE/HER” in their bios don't interact

Dennis' legs felt like jelly from exhaustion; each step seemed heavier than the last. He walked to the bus stop and pulled out his phone to send you a message.

He saw the message arrive but not be read; when he noticed it was already 11:21 PM, he assumed you were already asleep. He knew that whenever you could, you’d stay up waiting for him. The bus ride felt long to Dennis’s tired eyes as he tried not to fall asleep in the uncomfortable bus seat.

When Dennis finally arrived at the apartment, he was exhausted. He kicked the door shut, dropped his backpack on the floor, and walked toward the bedroom. You looked so beautiful to Dennis; he saw you sleeping in just your pajama shorts. Whitaker bit his lip and ran his hands through his hair.

— Not now, not now— Whitaker muttered to himself as he shook his head and headed for the bathroom. He looked at himself in the bathroom mirror and sighed. — It’s not the time for this, Whitaker. He’s tired. You’re tired —he said to his own reflection in the mirror. His hands went to his shirt and he threw it on the floor before taking off his pants and underwear, leaving them on the floor along with his uniform shirt.

The sole of Whitaker’s foot touched the cold tile of the shower stall; he let out a grunt from the thermal shock and turned on the shower, letting the hot water fall on his back. As his muscles relaxed in an almost automatic motion, his hand moved down to his cock. Dennis sighed as he began to stroke its length in slow, deliberate movements.

Dennis bit his lip to stifle his own moans; with his eyes closed, all Whitaker could imagine was his mouth wrapped around your cock, his eyes locked on yours. The hand that had been moving up and down in slow motions was now more frantic, the moans growing more desperate.

— Fuck, baby, please— Whitaker begged into the void as he moaned for you, his forehead pressed against the cold marble of the shower stall. — Fuck, fuck— his moans grew increasingly desperate, mingling with murmurs of profanity.

When Whitaker finally came with a loud moan, his cum splattered the floor and a bit of the tile. — Shit — Whitaker said as he panted heavily and looked at the floor — Damn, even when you’re asleep you can make me feel so good — he said to thin air as he finally grabbed the soap to scrub and clean his whole body.

When Whitaker got out of the shower, he put on one of his shirts and his underwear, then lay down next to his , his arms around his waist. He sighed, closing his eyes and burying his face on your hair. It didn’t take long for him to fall asleep, lulled by the scent of his shampoo in his hair.

The sun hadn’t risen yet; the digital clock showed it was almost five in the morning. Soon it would be time for his alarm and Whitaker’s to go off and wake them up. It didn’t take long for Whitaker to wake up, moaning into his neck, his eyes half-open from sleep — Darling — he said in a mix of a moan and a plea; Dennis’s hands had begun to move up to your waist, holding it tightly and tracing circles with his finger.

— Honey, please— Whitaker said as he ground his hips against your butt; he kissed your neck and moved his hand to your nipples, starting to play with them. — Babe— Whitaker whimpered again, his lips on your neck. When he felt you stir and wake up, he kept kissing your neck.

— Babe, I need you — Whitaker murmured, looking at you with his big eyes.

— What is it, honey? What do you need? — Your sleepy voice drew a soft moan from Whitaker; he buried his face in your hair and moaned, hiding his face there.

— Please, anything—I need you— he moaned as he moved his hand to yours, holding them together. Dennis pulled away as he sat up and looked at you, his cock hard against his underwear, precum already staining it.

When he saw you get up and turn toward him, Whitaker bit his lip, waiting for your touch; he was longing for your touch, his hand reaching out to you, yearning for your touch.

— Poor little darling, so needy— —at your gentle remark, he nodded vigorously. As you drew closer and your lips touched his, Whitaker moaned during the kiss, his hands on your shoulders. When he pulled away from the kiss, Whitaker looked at you, his face flushed. — Tell me what you want — Whitaker stared into your eyes, thinking about what he wanted.

— I want you, inside me, the Srtap, please — Whitaker said what he wanted, his face red as he saw the smile form on your face. He let your hand guide him to lie down on the bed, your lips moving to wet kisses on his neck, your hand sliding down to the hem of his shirt and pulling it out. He sighed, already lifting himself off the bed to quickly remove his shirt, to take away that barrier separating him from you.

— How desperate. You touched yourself earlier, didn’t you? Didn’t want to wake me up?— Even though it was phrased as a question, Dennis could sense the tone of affirmation; it wasn’t the first time he’d done this. Whitaker just nodded, his hands caressing his shoulders and squeezing them for support.

The shirt was tossed aside, landing on the floor, his lips moving from his neck to his collarbone, leaving marks and hickies, his hands teasing his nipples, drawing gasping moans from him. — Babe, please, I need you now— Whitaker begged, moaning as his hands reached for the waistband of his pajama shorts.

Whitaker’s big eyes locked onto yours, silently begging you to stop teasing him, when he saw you walk over to the nightstand and grab the lube and the strap-on. He stood up quickly to help you take off your shorts, eager to get what he wanted.

His hand rested on the inside of your thigh, moving toward your cock, closing his fingers around it and caressing it, he moaned as he rubbed his hips against your leg, his other hand moving to the lips of your wet pussy, beginning to penetrate with one of his fingers to make room for the dildo inside the strap-on, his moans growing more desperate, mingling with your own. — Babe, help me? — He didn’t have to ask twice; his hand grabbed the buckle and adjusted it on you.

A moan escaped his lips as he slid the vibrator inside you and fastened the buckle; he positioned himself in front of you, licking the purple vibrator that was strapped on, his eyes never leaving yours as he sucked on the strap-on.

It didn’t take long for Whitaker to be lying on the bed, his fingers spreading his hole, his mouth sucking his cock, and the hand that wasn’t spreading his hole was holding his hips to the bed. The boy’s hands beneath him clenched the sheet as he moaned; Whitaker sighed as he moved a hand to his hair, tugging at his strands, the moans from his lips growing louder and louder. — Darling, please, please, I want you inside me— Dennis moaned, looking at you, his hand clenching your hair as he closed his eyes.

He moaned as you pulled away, tears streaming from his eyes; he spread his legs. Your hand slid down his thigh, hoisting his leg over your shoulder, aligning your cock with his ass.

— I’m going in, okay? Take a deep breath for me. You can do this.— Whitaker took your hand as you entered him; he moaned as he felt himself being stretched. — Good boy, taking it so well for me.— Your words drew a pleading moan from him.

He leaned in to kiss you, as he felt you penetrate him. Whitaker moaned as he felt your cock inside him, his hands clasped together seeking your kisses, his leg draped over your shoulder, his eyes fixed on you, full of affection and trust. — Babe, you can move — Whitaker said as he continued to stare at your face.

Dennis moaned as he felt the sudden back-and-forth motion, his hands holding yours, leaning forward to kiss your lips, his back arching off the bed to reach you.

— You’re doing great, honey— his words and kisses drew out soft, desperate moans. The sex between you was always very tender and slow, always filled with words of comfort and loving affirmations. Your hand moved to his cock, caressing it in the same rhythm as his thrusts. — Come to me, darling, let me hear you— —his voice was sweet and a jumble in Whitaker’s clouded mind; he just moaned in response as his hands grabbed whatever part of your body they could reach.

— Babe, I’m close, I’m close, please— he begged as he arched his back against the bed; a loud, raspy moan escaped his lips as he came, splattering his abdomen and his hand. Leaning forward to kiss him, giving him one last thrust as he came inside the strap-on, Dennis was flushed and panting as he looked at you, his eyes still glazed over.

— I’m going to pull out, okay? — waiting for his confirmation to finally remove the cock from inside him, Whitaker sighed and reached out to you, craving your physical touch.

— Did you come?— he asked as he held your hand, watching you unfasten the strap-on and let out a broken moan as the vibrator slid out of you.

— Yes, honey, I came.— Your answer brought a slight smile to his face; Dennis pulled you onto the bed, kissing your shoulder and snuggling up to you. — I think we still have a few more minutes of sleep before we have to leave for work— his statement drew a sigh from Dennis, who simply buried his face in your chest and sighed.

— It feels great to stay here a little longer with you— he said hoarsely, not wanting to lift his face from your chest, closing his eyes and savoring the sensation of you holding him close.

[blueberrymori]

Summary: Jack's psychologist had recommended that he find a new hobby, and Jack chose to start cooking for his boyfriend. This resulted in small daily encounters and lunchboxes for work, given the amount Jack cooks.

warnings: just fluff, Jack might be like that in his role, but I imagine him as a caring person when he's off duty.

A/N: I don't use Y/N or variants in my fanfics.

It was morning when Jack came home; it was 7:12 a.m. when he walked in and lay down on the couch. he knew that at this hour you would have already left the house to go to work and wouldn’t be back until lunchtime so you could eat at home and grab the charger that was always on the counter; Abbot knew you left the charger there on purpose just so you’d have an excuse to stay home with him during your lunch break one of the few moments you got to spend together.

Jack’s blue eyes fixed on the counter with a smile as he saw the charger’s cord hanging there. He got up from the couch with a sigh and walked over to the counter with the wooden cabinets that you’d refused to let him replace with modern marble ones, saying the house would lose its charm.

A soft chuckle escaped Jack’s lips as he picked up the charger and looked around the empty kitchen. He leaned against the counter while fiddling with the charger. — What would I do without you— Jack said as he wound up the charger and placed it back in the corner of the counter. His hand ran along the cold marble until it reached the end of the counter where he was leaning, and he stared at the stove; a smile appeared on his face.

Abbot walked over to grab his jacket and wallet so he could leave the house and stop by the grocery store, having decided he would make lunch today so that you and he could spend more time together. His psychologist had already mentioned that he should take up some hobbies not that he’d taken that advice very seriously until now, when he saw an opportunity to have more free time with you and make you happy at the same time.

The trip to the market was quick for Jack: rigatoni pasta, tomatoes, Tuscan sausage, heavy cream, basil, and Parmesan cheese. Abbot hurried back home, leaving the grocery bags on the counter and grabbing the cutting board, the pot to boil water, the olive oil, salt, and black pepper.

When Jack looked up, it was at the sound of the front door opening; he saw you coming in with that look of complicity and feigned innocence — I forgot the charger— he heard your voice stop speaking as you entered the kitchen, the saucepan of sauce bubbling to thicken, and him grating the Parmesan cheese.

— Oh yeah, I saw a loose charger in the kitchen— Jack said as he set the grater and the cheese down in the bowl; he wiped his hand on his apron as he walked over to you. — How was your morning?— he asked, his eyes locked on yours; he kissed your forehead, waiting for your answer.

— Well, wow, I think I had an accident on the way here because that was definitely not on today’s to—do list— your reply drew a faint laugh from him as he slipped his hands into his pants pockets.

— Then I guess I hit the blank space on the bingo card— Jack said, moving his hand to your waist and guiding you to one of the counter stools. — Lunch today is Rigatoni alla Toscana— he said, placing a plate in front of you and another next to him.

— Wow, what made you decide to cook lunch?— Jack’s blue eyes looked at you as you asked the question, and a smile appeared on his face.

— I’m following what my therapist said, and I’m also spending time with you, because lunch is ready and now we have free time to be together during your lunch break.— — Jack said, leaning in and kissing your temple. — Come on, let’s eat— Jack said, already taking your hand and guiding you to the table that was set, with only the plates and the bowl of grated cheese missing.

He sat down next to him, placing a plate beside him and one in front of him. — You know, I could get used to this— Jack said, picking up the bowl and putting some Parmesan on his plate.

Throughout lunch, Jack was happy and kept looking at you. It was nice to spend a little extra time with his husband, and preparing lunch and other meals helped increase the quality time they had together he had the therapist to thank for that.

[ceriseangels]

robby vs anyone that reminds him of himself in any possible way

[blueberrymori]

Hello :) It’s been a while since I’ve posted on my own blog, and to get back into the swing of things and celebrate my 19th birthday on the 22nd, I’ll be posting fanfics all week, starting on Sunday, March 15, characters with the dates for the posts below.

Jack Abbot x ftm!reader - new hobbies (Sun. 03/15) - Jack's psychologist had recommended that he find a new hobby, and Jack chose to start cooking for his boyfriend.

Dennis whitaker x ftm!reader - after-shift horniness (Mon. 03/16) - It was a very long 12hour shift, and when Dennis got home and found you asleep, the problem was that he was feeling needy and horny, but didn't want to wake you up, so to try to get rid of it, he takes a shower and tries to sleep, only to wake up in the middle of the night rubbing against you.

Spencer Reid x ftm!reader - puppy eyes (tue. 03/17) - Spencer knows he can get whatever he wants as long as he gives you that puppy-dog look, and he’s going to use that to his advantage.

Jason Todd x ftm!reader - comfort in the rain (Wed. 03/18) - Jason realizes what a terrible day he’s had, and he wants to do everything he can to make you happy, even if it means piling pillows on your bed and watching that movie you’ve been begging to see for two weeks but you’ve never had time to watch together.

Michael "Robby" Robinavicth x ftm!reader - rough day, not your fault (Thu. 03/19) - It’s time to take your hormones, but there’s a problem: you’re terrified of needles, so what better to do than wait for your boyfriend who’s a doctor to come over and help you? Only to find out that he’s had a rough shift and takes it out on you, and then he feels guilty for hurting you

Jack Abbot x ftm!rerader - bedtime (Fri. 03/20) - Jack doesn't want to go to sleep, so the best solution is to fuck him until he's exhausted and can't argue anymore

Bruce Wayne x NB!alien!reader - new suit (Sat. 03/21) - While on patrol with your husband, your suit was damaged, and this time, Bruce wouldn’t be the one to decide how the new one would be made, as he had done last time

Dick Grayson x NB!alien!reader - human traditions (Mon. 03/22 ) - You've been on Earth for a year, but on your planet, a year on Earth is only a few months there. Dick thinks it's only fair to introduce you to human birthdays and traditions.

[unicornconnor]

Jason may deny it, but when he was Robin he thought the Discowing was cool

[slow--spark]

just give dana some time to distract security

[shatterstared]

these scenes playing back to back is actually so sick and twisted

[blueberrymori]

Abbot, you have a job which is to puncture Robby's motorcycle tire or hire someone to steal it.

[ny-ji]

Dana, Caleb, Whitaker & Abbot at the end of Robby’s shift :

[str4wbsstuff]

that moment when your attending fully implies that he will be killing himself after giving you his house.